I'll Be Your Disguise
by Whedonist
Summary: Elliot get's himself into a bit of trouble after agreeing to help Alex and Olivia.
1. Deflection

Disclaimer: Not mine. These guys belong to Dick Wolf and NBC.

A/N: Read and Enjoy.

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><p><span>Chapter 1 – Appearances<span>

Glancing over at the display on my phone a smile grows as I pick up the device and read the screen. A quick check on El, who happens to be smirking in my direction, and I press a few buttons unlocking the screen to read the text message.

"_Tonight?"_ is all it reads.

Doing some mental math, I figure that I may be able to get out of here before nine tonight.

"_Sure, same place?"_ I type back and hit send.

"_Of course. Do you know what I'm going to do to you tonight?"_ the reply comes back a few seconds later.

"_Is that a rhetorical question?"_ I smirk, 'cause if it's anything like our Sunday rendezvous…walking right tomorrow may be a problem.

"_Haha,"_ the new message reads. _"I've been thinking about it all day…" _

My eyebrows rise as I lean back in my slightly uncomfortable chair and try to resist taking this conversation to where it seems to be headed. Which is straight for the gutter.

Screw it.

"_What have you been thinking about?"_ I send.

It takes a moment for the display to light up again, but as soon as it does, I grab for it and read, _"My face buried between your thighs, fucking you with my mouth. Making sure that we're clear on who is between your thighs and making you scream."_ My eyes bulge and I swallow, hard.

Well, that was uhm, I try to find something to say to that, but the images it provides leave my mouth gummy and parched. It's easy to see, me gripping the headboard for dear life rocking with the body beneath me.

Heat rises to my cheeks and I duck behind a curtain of hair and type out a response, _"It takes a lot to get me to scream. You sure you're up to the challenge?"_ I'm not sure if egging this conversation on is good or not, if only for the sake of the new underwear I'm wearing and my mood for the rest of the day.

I'd feel bad about subjecting the rest of the squad to it.

"_Oh, I'm up *wiggles eyebrows* for it. I fully intend to have you hoarse and spent before the day's end."_ I lick my lips as I read the message and the one that comes shortly after may have short circuited something in my brain, _"Burying myself inside you as your legs wrap around my waist. Marking you. Making you mine, again and again. I'd do that on your desk, if I could. Right there where everyone could see. Letting them know you're taken."_

Sucking in a breath, I set the phone down with a shaky hand. That's just evil. Images like that should not come to me in the middle of a work day when I'm working on three different rape cases. Having sex on my desk in the sex crimes unit is just…well it's wrong. I shake my head and look up at the shadow that's fallen over my desk.

Fin and Munch lean casually at either side of our desks and look between Elliot and I. "Liv," Fin says.

I offer him a half smile and parrot back, "Fin."

His arms fold across his chest, stretching the dark blue silk button down he's wearing. The gold chain around his neck tightens as the cross on the bottom is trapped under his bulging forearms. What are Frick and Frack up to?

"Can I help you two with something?" I blink up at them, head cocked to the side.

"Olivia," Munch starts out, "My partner and I were just sitting there, minding our business and we couldn't help notice you sitting here all blushes and giggles." Munch's hand waves between me and my phone.

"Yeah, you got the silly ass, puppy love grin thing goin' on. I'm wonderin' why," Fin butts in, amusement making his eyes twinkle in the harsh florescent light the department likes to subject us to.

I'm about to reply when my phone lights up. Rolling my eyes I snatch it off my desk and read, _"Cat got your tongue, gorgeous?"_

Smart ass.

"See, Fin, I'm telling you she's got the same look now as she does when Cabot comes in the room," John says, causing me to shift in my seat.

Shit.

"_Help!"_ I type back and toss the phone in my drawer.

Flipping Munch off, I say, "What is it with boys?"

We look up as a soft vibration courses through my desk from Elliot's. Not the first time it's happened today, but it's the first time with John and Munch around. The three of us look at the smile spreading across my partners face and I laugh.

He's such a goofball sometimes.

Fin looks between me and my partner and his eyebrows rise in suspicion. I watch El type a response and then catch his eye as he looks up.

"What's up?" he asks to no one in particular.

John takes up the question, "Well, Odafin and I were discussing Olivia's flushed state from a few minutes ago, thinking that perhaps my wildest fantasies had come true and she was smitten with our long lost A.D.A. But that was before you got an equally silly grin on your face from the text message you just received."

As if on cue, my phone lights up and I snatch it off the desk, reading quickly, _"Help's on the way."_

"Yeah, and lets also add in the fact that you received said text message right after Liv got done sending one and now this." Fin's eyes narrow as he waits on an answer.

"Really?" I say. "Is this what my tax dollars are going towards? You two with nothing better to do than base the nature of a few text messages between consenting adults on conjecture and speculation?"

"Hey now," Elliot grunts across from me, "Leave Liv alone."

I scowl in his direction and he shrugs.

Christ.

"Whoever my partner decided to…exchange text messages with is no one's business but her and her texting buddy," Elliot waggles his eyebrows at the three of us and I shake my head.

"Who's Olivia exchanging text messages with?" the voice asks from the doorway.

All of us turn our attention to the ever prim and well put together Alex Cabot propped against the frame of the door. Her blue eyes are clear and bright behind her black framed glasses and her mouth is turned up in the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Counselor!" Munch booms.

"Hey, Cabot, can you get us Liv's phone records?" Fin asks.

Our A.D.A. steps into the bullpen and supporting herself against my desk, raises a sculpted eyebrow. She looks between the four of us. Her gaze finally settles on me and silently asks for an explanation.

"The boys are letting their imaginations runaway with them," I offer by way of explanation. "And, no," I huff; smacking Fin with the nearest file folder I have on the hip, "she will not be getting my phone records for you to gossip over."

"Besides," Alex says, the smile creeping up her face, "I'm sure we'd only find calls to anyone of us and all the best take-out Manhattan has to offer."

"Oh, so now we're assuming that I can't cook and all I do is work?" I'd like to think my question didn't come out pouty, but the look Elliot gives me lets me know otherwise.

Fuck.

"It's not an assumption," Fin says, "It's the truth. We know it. You know it. Don knows it."

"They're right," Alex looks down at me, "Besides pissing me off the first time we met, the impression was that you lived for your job…" she trails off and then looks between the three men now gathered around my desk and picks back up, "Of course, while I've adjusted the opinion of you as a raving bitch, I can say that all of us live for our jobs."

"Isn't that just a little bit stereotypical?" El asks from his position next to John on my left.

"There's a reason some stereotypes are true Elliot," John answers.

Fin rolls his eyes then looks pointedly at his partner, "So then we can just call your skinny Jewish ass a miser and be done with it?"

Munch's lips purse, but he turns his version of wit to my partner and says, "Or Elliot we can rename you Gomer Pyle and make a dunce cap out of some paper, Jarhead."

"But Cabot's far from a slimy lawyer," I say looking up at her.

"Yeah, but you remember her nickname from way back," Fin says, bumping his shoulder with our friend.

"You mean the Ice Queen moniker that those wanting to take the fifth and not self incriminate bestowed upon me once upon a time?" She glares at each of us and I slink down in my seat just a little. In fact all of us seem to shrink under the gaze. At least that much hasn't changed. "And please, if we can, I would like to resurrect the bitch so the junior A.D.A.'s will not ask me such inane questions."

Her face splits into a grin and we all laugh.

"We'll see what we can do to help out Alex," Elliot promises.

Smirking Fin asks, "Speakin' of stereotypes, should we just get 'Liv the membership to GLAAD now or not?"

I scowl at him and Elliot says, "Weren't you just sayin' something about," and waves a hand between the two of us.

"We were indeed El. But let's be honest, the leather, the gun, the walk and the fact that she can probably kick anyone of our asses…" John sends me an apologetic look and shrugs. "Unfortunately, Liv, it's enticing to many a women and those of us men who don't mind being emasculated by strong women."

Rolling my eyes, I hear Alex sigh, "It's true. All of us are sort of stuck in boxes with labels due to the nature of society and its confines." She winks at me while she says, "It doesn't mean we have to like it nor should we contribute to false assumptions."

"Does that mean you don't want us to start referring to you as the Ice Queen or some such variation that will strike fear in the hearts of those down at the D.A.'s office?" I ask, smirking.

She shakes her head and lays her hand on my shoulder, squeezing as she says, "Olivia, there are some stereotypes that would be criminal to dissolve."

Everyone laughs and I duck my head, grab my phone and stand up. "Good. But what I really want to know Cabot is if you got that warrant we asked for?"

She reaches down and hands me the folded pieces of blue and white paper tucked into the side of her bag. "Go. I think some of us have work to do."

I look over at Elliot and he's tugging on his jacket.

Grabbing mine, I say over my shoulder heading for the exit, "Thanks, we'll be back in a few with another sleaze bag for you to intimidate." I hear a round of 'see ya's' before I feel a large meaty hand cover my right ass cheek and give it a solid squeeze.

Glaring, my vision snaps to Elliot who's wearing the biggest grin I've seen him sport in ages. Asshole.


	2. Remove the Veil

Remove the Veil

Standing behind the two-way mirror my arms fold across my chest, I watch Elliot and Olivia inside the box working their suspect over. Watching them reminds me of the first time I ever saw a suspect interrogated. It was my third day at the D.A.'s office and the two detectives were not nearly as skilled as Olivia and Elliot are. The case details are vague, but the detectives, Jordan Domingues and Chris Fleck, were a bear to work with. Between their inability to fill out paperwork correctly and then the fact no one warned me Chris shouldn't be put on a witness stand, under any circumstances, I came to S.V.U. with a larger stick up my ass than usual.

But watching El and Liv work over Philip Barnhart I know that if he doesn't crack soon, he'll lawyer up and then I have to deal with an idiotic defense attorney.

I study the man sitting between Liv and El. Early forties, a warm expressive face, sandy brown hair, cut in a shaggy style, a full bottom lip, patrician nose and no facial hair. His body is trim, compact and muscular. His height and weight fit with the assailant's physicality that Warner gave in her report. What causes me pause are his hands.

They're delicate.

No markings. They're classic look of what most people think of as 'soft' hands. The killer was brutal in their attack, using their fists to pummel the two victims lying in the morgue.

Barnhart's hands have no cuts or markings. The knuckles are not swollen nor is the skin broken or bruised. Even though the perp used leather gloves to cover his hands, there should be bruising. Shaking my head, I tune back into Elliot laying into the man sitting next to him.

El sits on Barnhart's left, Olivia on his right. They have photos of the victims spread out on the table and Barnhart's eyes are anywhere but on that table top. "Liv," Elliot starts, "You know what gets me?" He doesn't wait on a reply and continues, "I just don't get it."

"How so?" Olivia asks from her reclined position.

"Two guys beat to death and the only thing we have tying them together are orientation and both of 'em had stashed in their pocket a business card with nothing more than a phone number on it." El claps a hand to Phil's shoulder and squeezes. "Oh, and the fingerprints on the card. Those Phil belong to you."

The man flinches and Olivia says, "Phil, you maintain your innocence, but right now, everything that we have points to you. The card, the witnesses and the fingerprints." She leans forward and catches his gaze. "Why'd you do it?"

Olivia and Elliot exchange glances then she deflates a little, leans back in her seat, watching as Barnhart rolls his eyes and sighs. Elliot whispers in his ear, but I can't make out what he's said. The suspect licks his lips and barely shakes his head. He's coming to some decision, but I can't figure out what it is.

It's then that Barnhart smiles and says as evenly as possible, "I understand that you are doing your job, but I'm not homophobic, detectives. I'm in the closet. If it got out, my career would be ruined."

Olivia is the first to recover as she asks, "You trade stock for Abbassi and Sadehi. How would that ruin your career?"

"My boss is very homophobic. I make good money and I'm not willing to lose my job to be out at work. I play by the rules. I get paid well. I'm discrete." His eyes dart to Elliot who is sitting back in his chair, arms folded across his broad chest.

"Jackson and," he falters trying to think of the other name, "Long Island boy…"

"Steve," Olivia supply's.

"Yeah, Steve, they were just hook ups. I gave them the cards because they were fun for the evening and left an open invite after I left the club." Phil licks his lips and his eyes finally drop to the two photos in front of him, morgue shots of the two victims. His jaw clenches and his face sours. "If I knew, I would tell you guys."

Shaking his head, he slumps further in his chair and wipes his face with his hand.

"The only thing I can think of is that whoever killed them, followed them after our liaisons," Philip finishes, deflating a little.

The detectives exchange a series of looks, conversations in ticks of muscle and tissue that I'll never be privy to. As trite as it may seem their tag team effort is a dance in subtle hand gestures, eye contact and non verbal cues that would leave most confused. It's a language and rhythm all their own that they have developed working together.

I don't pay attention to what they're saying anymore, none of it as important as the subtext being played out. A conclusion is reached and Elliot nods.

"Let's say we believe you. We're still going to need to verify some of the information you've given us," Elliot says and then swipes at his mouth. Olivia gets up and comes through the door of the box and through the observation room I'm in. She doesn't leave me alone, but her head disappears around the frame of the door. A uniform follows her head back inside and I watch as they escort Barnhart out and back to the holding cell.

The two detectives gather with me in the observation room, my only response to the silence is a raised eyebrow in Elliot's direction. He blushes and hangs his head.

"Sleaze ball," he spits, "Why'd I have to touch him?"

"Because you forgot my coffee this morning," Olivia says, smiling sweetly.

"It wouldn't have been so bad if we had brought him in before his pants were down around his ankles." Elliot's face pinches in disgust and the visual from how they described finding him, in the back alley on his lunch break getting a blow job. "I need to go wash up."

"If you want there's some antiseptic wipes in my drawer," Olivia says her tone light and teasing.

Elliot promptly tosses a balled up napkin from his pocket at his partner and readies to leave. His hands on the knob of the door when I clear my throat to garner his attention.

Smirking, I say, "Be sure to use lots of soap. And Elliot, make sure those hands keep to themselves around things that belong to me."

His face reddens further, so much so that the tips of his ears are the color of Santa Clause's suit. He scurries from the room, leaving Olivia alone with me.

Finally, my gaze turns to her and I lean against the glass of the mirror.

"What do you think of our suspect?" she asks mirroring my position a few inches in front of me.

That's really what she wants to talk about? Quickly, I shift gears and shrug. "I think that there's a lot of circumstantial evidence that points in his direction. I don't think he did it."

Her mouth pinches and bunches to the side in thought. Slowly, she nods and sighs. "Me neither."

Smirking, she inches closer to me, the warmth coming from her body more apparent. Her mouth so close to mine I feel her breath come in warm puffs to slide across my skin. Not bothering to care about our location, I close the gap and press my lips against hers. Pushing off the glass, one hand snakes around her waist to bring our bodies flush while the other wraps itself in the hair at the nape of her neck.

Olivia's the first to deepen the kiss as her tongue slides against mine. I hum in approval as her hands slip down my back and over my ass. I lose my sense of place and take refuge in her arms for a few moments, letting the feel of her around me weave together some of my frayed nerves. Gently, she pulls away and nips at my swollen lips.

"Your property, huh?" she teases.

I look her in the eyes; they're dark and the warmest shades of brown. She meets my gaze unflinching. Unable to resist, I kiss the corner of her mouth then firmly nod and say, "I asked him to help you, not grope you."

"Hmmm," she hums as her hands continue to wander over my back and hips.

"Besides," I say nipping at her bottom lip, "I've claimed these," I say kissing her lips, "this," and press a kiss to the tip of her nose. I travel north and lay one kiss on each closed eyelid, "these and…" I trail off, drop to my knees, press my nose against her pubic bone and kiss the fabric covered body part. "This and everything between these beautiful thighs." I gently push my hand between her legs and press into her.

My action causes her knees to weaken and I smirk. "So," she husks from above me as I work the buckle of her belt open, "You're claim is that I'm yours because possession is nine-tenths of the law?"

"Uh-huh" I answer as I snap open her pants and undo her zipper. The green silk underwear she put on this morning stare back at me. Working her pants down around her thighs, I use my teeth and hands to pull her underwear down, exposing her mound. Nuzzling her hair, I hear the sharp intake of breath, as I'm assaulted with her scent. Licking my lips in anticipation, I lay a kiss against heated skin and another on her hip bone.

"We're gonna get caught," she manages through clenched teeth.

My nose brushes against her hair as I shake my head. "Elliot locked the door on his way out," is all I say before I press her against the wall, spread her thighs and push my tongue into her folds. She removes my glasses that are pressing into her and then wraps her free hand in my hair. She pushes my face further between her legs and I willingly oblige. The last thought I have before being completely surrounded by my lover is of my stockings, I hope they make it out of this room, somewhat intact.


	3. Until You Get It Right

Until You Get It Right

Shifting on the bar stool, I look at the mirrors that line the back of the bar. Why I'm here is anyone's guess. Carrie said this is where she wanted to meet and it just so happens that it's the same bar Cabot dragged us to a few weeks back, it also just so happens that it's the same bar that she, Olivia and Elliot are at tonight.

At least they haven't noticed me. The booth they're occupying towards the back leaves little of the long bar in the dimly lit place viewable from their position, but the mirrors here are angled in just the right way so that I can see Olivia and Alex leaning into one another opposite Elliot who has a line of empty shot glasses in front of him.

Maybe he's blowing off steam from the two cases they closed today. Shaking my head, I let the thoughts of my detectives go, knowing that worrying over them may be natural, but some nights, like tonight and the way the three of them appear, would not do me any favors.

Instead, I swirl the ice around in my club soda with a twist and check my watch. She should be here soon. Why I let Jack set me up with an "old friend" of his from law school isn't exactly clear. Maybe it was because I just needed to get out for once on a weekend that's ended with no pressing issues. A weekend where I don't have One P.P. breathing down my neck with the threats of reviews and inquiries.

It was a good week for me and my detectives in S.V.U. I hope they enjoy the evening, barring any case that comes up. I hope they all get to sleep through the night.

"Cap'n?" the voice gruff and questioning comes from behind and I know who it is.

Swiveling around to greet one of my "kids", I smile at Fin and offer him the seat next to me. "Fin," I say, smiling at him.

He smirks at me and looks between me and the glass in my hand. "What brings you in here?" he asks.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was feeling a bit masochistic?" We swivel to face the bar and I signal for a refill while he asks for a beer.

"Maybe, but you only come to bars for a few reason, beatin' yourself up ain't the ones we're used to." He looks at me and waits on an answer.

Laughing lightly, I feel I should know better. I have some of the best detectives the N.Y.P.D. has to offer on my squad. They notice everything. They may not comment on it, but they notice it.

"True. Actually," I look around and drop my voice, "No word to the rest of the squad, but I'm waiting on a date."

His eyebrow rises and the corner of his mouth tugs in a lop-sided smirk, "Huh, that I wouldn't have thought of either. Who set you up?"

The bartender, a girl in her early twenties, slides our drinks in front of us and let's her hand linger over Fin's as he accepts the glass. He pulls back and smiles, but shakes his head. The woman shrugs it off and winks, saying, "If you two need anything else please let me know." With that, she swaggers off to fill another order for one of the waitresses waiting on the opposite end.

Fin rolls his eyes and sighs. "Women are nuts."

"You're just now figuring that out Detective?" I ask, sipping at my new drink.

"Naw, I just think it needs to be repeated as often as possible."

"Hmmm, maybe." A burst of laughter snaps my head up and I look back through the mirror to see Alex nearly doubled over leaning into my detective.

"Is that who I think that is?" Fin asks. Looking over at him, I see his eyes are trained on where I was just looking.

"It would be," I answer and then ask, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

He chews on his lower lip for a moment and shrugs. "Not surprised. Intrigued's more like it." He scratches at his chin and then sips his beer. "I think we all understand the unspoken here."

I smile and tip my glass. "And we could be reading more into it than what it appears."

"Maybe." His gaze turns from me to the mirror and I follow him. We watch the three and he says barely loud enough for me to hear, "Let's say we're not. Let's say there's somethin' goin' down over there. What are you gonna do about it."

It's a fair question. One I haven't been prepared to answer. Since Alexandra came back the shift in the dynamic between Olivia and Elliot is painfully obvious, although not unwelcome. The shift in Cabot in relation to El and Liv is more often than not touch and go, and for me, reading between the lines of their tension isn't easy to miss.

Mopping my face with my hand, I try and answer, "What can I do Odafin? They're adults who understand the repercussions of their actions."

His eyebrow lifts in my direction and he says, "Split'em up?"

I shake my head. These moments of candor are few and far between with me and my lead D's. But tonight, given the situation, I think it's necessary. "I have a squad that's one of the best in the N.Y.P.D. Alexandra Cabot is one of the most effective A.D.A.'s to ever grace the courtroom. With you four and her together we have the best shot at getting the most justice for the people we see." I gulp down the last of my tonic and wish it were something stronger. "I won't rock that boat for something as petty as policy."

His chin raises and the smile he wants to wear tugs at the corners of his lips, but he denies it and it goes back to the thin lipped, nearly there sneer that I'm used to.

Thank God for familiarity and standards.

"So, about this blind date?" He eyes me sideways and I finally smile.

"Yeah, I'm not sure how well this is going to go." The cute bartender that was hitting on Fin comes bouncing over with another drink in her hand. I ask for some coffee and she complies, spinning around to the pot and small set of cups behind her. A new drink, this one steaming and black is placed in front of me and I hear Fin laughing.

"Man, you're gonna hafta get some game if you want it to go well."

"What makes you think I want it to go well?" I ask adding a packet of sugar to the drink.

"Why wouldn't you, unless o' course she ain't your type…" He shoulders into me and waggles his eyebrows.

I'm about to respond when Elliot's voice booms over the small bar crowd, "That's it! Done! Let's go!"

Fin and I direct our gaze to the mirror and see Elliot swaying on his feet as he tosses some crumpled bills on to the tabletop. Alex and Olivia seem to agree and slightly less tipsy, they each wrap an arm around either side of Elliot and begin to make their way out of the bar.

As they pass us, not noticing who is actually in the bar, I hear Alex ask, "My place or yours?"

I ignore Olivia's answer and try not to think about the implications. For all I know it could be as innocent as wanting to take care of two friends. It could be a million and one different things. I hope it's nothing that would jeopardize Elliot's marriage.

The last time, and hopefully the only time, he and Kathy split up he was a fucking wreck and a useless detective.

I don't need that again.

"Yeah, however that ends, I don't wanna know," Fin snorts beside me.

"From your lips to God's ears Tutola." I raise my glass and he clinks his beer against my coffee mug.

"A'ight, let's get this back on track," he says eyeing me. "First thing is, relax Cap. You're not a dog and when you ain't pissing me off or yellin' you're alright to be with." He smirks at me and I shake my head.

"You try bein' the boss and let me know how it goes," I retort.

"Naw, we had Munch for that short period of time…trust me when I tell you that was enough. I don't want it. I'd rather let you clean up the mess."

We both laugh and then he sobers offering me one more piece of advice, "And when she gets here, find someplace else. This bar ain't bad and pretty neutral, but a brotha don't have game in a place like this."

Unable to resist, I say, "Unless you're Stabler and walk out arm in arm with two of New York's prettiest women."

Fin shakes his head and says, "Cat's gonna have problems in the a.m. I'm just glad it ain't me."

"Don?"

I turn my head around and see a woman, about five-feet-six-inches with shoulder length chestnut brown hair looking at me. With a pretty, oval face and bright blue eyes, I make a note to thank Jack.

"Carrie, right?" I ask, sliding off my stool and awkwardly offer my hand in greeting.

She shifts her coat to the other arm and takes it. Her palm is dry and her grip is soft, but firm.

"That's my cue," Fin says and extracts himself from the situation, placing a twenty on the bar while not bothering to make himself known to my date.

I'm grateful for his smooth exit as I offer her a seat.

"You know, there's this small bistro I know a block and a half away, would you care to go there instead?" she asks not taking a seat.

Grabbing my coat, I smile in agreement and make a mental note to thank Fin tomorrow. Tonight's looking up and it'll give me an excuse to not think about the situation swirling around three of my people.


	4. Heaviness of Skin

Heaviness of Skin

Making sure Elliot isn't going to lose it, I straighten myself up and pull my phone from inside my jacket. As the speed dial takes care of punching in the numbers, I watch my partner's head loll back against the bench seat of the cab. Alex looks at me over him and she smirks.

It sends a small jolt of fire through my body and I'm barely able to extract myself from the promise held in those clear blue eyes as Kathy picks up, "Liv? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, well, your husband's fine. Drunk, but otherwise healthy as an ox," I rush out trying not to let her worry too much about the father of her children.

"Ahh," she says, her voice less worried now and slightly annoyed.

I shift the phone to my other ear so she can't hear El start to mumble drunkenly asking if that's his wife. I swat his hand away and say, "He, uh, had one too many shots. You okay with him crashing with Alex and me?"

She snorts softly into the phone. "You realize if you had asked me this a year ago, I would have accused you and my husband of less than an above board relationship?"

I cringe a little. Like she needs to remind me of her jealous streak. Of Elliot's mopey ass. "Yeah, I know," I answer instead.

"I'm glad I don't have to anymore." She pauses on the phone and then says softly, "I've never thanked you Olivia and I'm sorry, but tonight, I'd like to say that at least. Thank you. Let him sleep it off and have him call me tomorrow. He's going to owe me."

I chuckle and let loose a sigh of relief. "It's what partners do, Kathy, I'm glad I can help. I'll send him home tomorrow night with flowers, chocolate and wine."

"You want to be an aunt again?" she chides.

"Couldn't hurt." I smile over at Alex's questioning look and say, "We're pulling up to the apartment. I'll have El call you tomorrow."

"Okay. Thanks again," Kathy says.

"G'night," I say ending the call.

"Liv!" El practically shouts, "Alex!" His head turns between the two of us and a goofy grin spreads over his face. "Ya'know," he drawls, "I love you two."

Alex and I manage a collective eye roll. Why is it that he has to be a sappy drunk? He's always a sappy drunk, droning on about his kids, his wife and the squad.

"I mean," he says, licking his lips, "I love Kathy, lots…the kids are great. I got the best kids…even if they're a pain in the ass…I wouldn't trade'em fer nothin'."

The cab comes to a stop in front of Alex's building and thankfully my partner shuts up while we maneuver him out of the cab, into the building and onto the elevator.

Unthankfully, he picks back up as the doors to the elevator slide shut and we make our ascent. "I'm just glad you two are together. You two are so cute together. And hot. Really hot." He waggles his eyebrows between me and my lover and she shoots me a look. A look that says I owe her for this. This may involve dipping into my savings account big.

"I'm glad I could help too," he slurs as the doors open and we step into Alex's foyer. "I know I crossed…" his face scrunches and he trails off. "Where're we?"

"My place, Elliot," Alex answers.

"Oh, 'kay. Anyway, just thanks for letting me know and letting me help. I love you two and providing the mis…mis…"

"Direct," my blonde lover supplies.

"Yeah," my partners face lights up as we set him on the couch in the living room, "Yeah the miswhatchamchallit. Keeps shit quiet. Cops talk too much."

"Hmm-hmm," Alex agrees, nodding firmly as she places a blanket over his prone form. I manage to take off his loafers but leave the socks. I love him. I don't love him that much.

As I right myself, his increasingly loud snores are the only sound and I look at him one last time, his arm thrown over his eyes, one leg bent and half on the floor, the other hanging over the arm of the couch. Alex's arms wrap around my waist from behind and she nuzzles into my neck. I spin around and forget about my drunken partner to focus on my lover.

In the pale lamp light, her eyes shine, her hair frames her face and I'm thankful that the alcohol that we both consumed was enough to give us an edge to our desire instead of a drunken encounter that we'll both feel unsatisfied with in the morning.

I press my lips to hers and walk us backwards to her bedroom. Shedding, shoes, socks and tops along the way. We hit her door and then the mattress. Instead of falling on to it, I step back, unclip my gun and badge, and place them on the nightstand next to the bed. My pants come undone and pool at my feet as she undoes her skirt. It meets a similar fate as my pants and we both step from our clothing, leaving us only in our underwear as she falls back into the mattress.

Following her, I climb up her mostly naked body, reveling in the heat her body provides, in the smooth texture of her skin. There really is nothing about this woman that I don't find fascinating or enticing.

"Liv, please," Alex whimpers as my hands ghost over her breasts, teasing her nipples.

My thigh presses into her center, dampening her silk underwear and eliciting a groan from me. I've barely touched her and I know she's ready for me. It's cheesy and silly, but arousing and powerful at the same time. She's the only lover I've had that's been so responsive.

I kiss my way up her stomach, through the valley of her breasts to the hollow of her neck and up her jaw line. Nipping at her earlobe, I suck it into my mouth as she writhes against my thigh, wanting more contact than I'm willing to give.

Her nails dig into my shoulders and I shudder.

"I owe you for this afternoon, counselor," I purr into her ear and she whimpers again.

I pull down a bra strap and kiss the skin exposed, nipping and licking my way over her shoulder, back down her neck as I whisper against her flesh, "Since we've established that possession is nine-tenths of the law, I'd like to declare my possessions, if it pleases the court?"

For my teasing she swats my shoulder and tugs on my hair, bring me eye level with her, "Since the precedents' been established, I think you it's safe to allow the declarations," she teases before pulling my mouth to hers.

Her tongue demands entrance and I let her in, my head swimming and limbs heavy with the need to touch her. Deftly, my hands move to Alex's back and inch their way towards the clasp of her bra. She spreads me open with her thigh and rubs her hand over my own heated center. I buck against her touch and I don't need to see her face to see the wide grin. I don't need to look at her to know how she feels about my reaction to her.

After being together for nearly a year, after her coming back to S.V.U. eight months ago causing us to try and hide our relationship because she had to answer Don's request, I know instinctually what my reactions do to her.

I'd be a liar and a fool to say that hers didn't affect me in a similar fashion.

She bites down above my right breast and sucks the flesh into her mouth, marking me. Something short circuits, it maybe my brain as instinct takes over and I pull back and begin tearing at the last bit of clothing either of us are wearing.

As I'm about to remove her bra, the bedroom door bangs open and we both snap in its direction. I'm still straddling Alex's thigh as I take in the sight of Elliot leaning against the door jam in an undershirt and boxers.

Alex's hisses into my shoulder, "Un-fucking-believable."

I watch slightly horrified and annoyed as he stumbles further into the room and unceremoniously does a face plant into the unoccupied side of the bed.

No.

No.

No!

Alex pushes me off and I slide to the side between her and my partner as she flops against the pillows and pulls the covers up over her mostly nude body. The mostly nude body I was getting ready to get nude so I could ravish.

I glare in Elliot's direction as he begins to snore again.

Fuck!

I slump down next to Alex as Elliot's arm swings over my stomach and lands on Alex's blanket covered torso. He pulls us together and I try to shove him away but he's unmovable.

Anger boils just below the surface and I'm nearly ready to kick him to the floor, but Alex's stifled laughter from my left turns my scowl in her direction.

A mirthless laugh finally escapes her lips and she snorts, "Is it possible for women to have blue balls?"

I groan and bury my head into her shoulder, wondering the same thing while cursing my partner to hell and back.

He's going to owe me so much for this in the morning he'll need to take out a second mortgage on the house.

Alex wraps her arms around me and snuggles into my side as I fume.

"Relax, Liv. We'll kill him in the morning when it will hurt more." She smiles at me and kisses the tip of my nose. "I may just want his manhood hung on my office wall for tonight, but I also want to make sure he knows I'm taking it."

I relent and snuggle into her arms and Elliot pulls us together, smashing me against his right side.

I drift off in Alex's arms as images of how to make him pay drift through my mind.


	5. Pain Don't Satisfy

Pain Don't Satisfy

"Stabler!"

The shout causes me to jump from my position on the bed and stand, swaying on my feet as I try to orient myself. The first thing I notice is the clothes, then the pain. The head splitting, hand wringing, 'oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph I want to crawl into a hole and die' type of pain. The cotton mouth that's more like a paste that's coated my tongue and the nausea all clue me into what the hell happened last night.

Now if I could focus my eyes and figure out who called my name and where in the hell I am, because I know I'm not home, I would be very very happy.

"Get dressed, partner!" Olivia shouts.

I clutch the side of my head and wince at her sharp, loud voice.

Something soft hits the side of my head and nearly knocks me over. I swipe at the item and notice they're my slacks. Falling over onto the mattress, I groan and mumble, "Call Cragen, tell'im I'm dead."

She snorts and smacks my ass, prompting me to roll over. "Can't. He's expecting us in thirty. Be there or be jobless."

I blink up at the ceiling. My eyes scrunch and I finally inspect my surroundings. Through my slit eyelids, I see the décor and know it's not Liv's place. The room here is done in soft earth tones, greens and browns that aren't _not_ my partner, but definitely not her decorating style either. Thickly I manage, "Where're we?"

"Alex's," she answers a little too loudly.

Wait.

That means I'm in Alex's bed…in my underwear. Where's Alex? What happened?

"Come on Stabler, Alex has already left. We need to go." She smacks my chest and saunters out of the room leaving me to finish getting ready. Groaning, I manage to pull on my pants and sit up, scratching my chest.

Shuffling, I go to the open bathroom door and see a new toothbrush and a fresh set of towels sitting on the back of the toilet. Deciding on which need to take care of first, I lift the toilet seat, unzip my pants and relieve my overly full bladder.

Good God, that feels wonderful.

Zipping up, I flush the toilet, lower the seat, wash my hands and brush my teeth. Now, if I could just stop the pain in my head I would be in great shape. I come out of the bathroom and my shirt's on the bed along with the tie that I discarded at some point last night. I manage to get it mostly buttoned and settle for the tie hanging loosely around my neck.

I make my way out of Alex's bedroom and into the living room where Olivia's at. I watch her bobbing her head along to the rock music that's playing as she sips her coffee.

"Aspirin?" I rasp.

Liv looks up at me and smirks. "None. There's some at work though. You ready?"

I swallow hard and nod. She tosses my jacket at me. I just manage to catch it before she moseys off towards what I think is the kitchen area. I listen to her rattle around for a few moments as I scramble to the stereo against the wall, frantically looking for the off switch.

The music suddenly stops and I spin around to see Olivia resting against the archway with a remote in her hand wearing a very evil smirk.

I get the feeling that whatever I did last night I will be paying for for sometime and all of the loud annoying things she's doing are part of repaying my debt.

Questions roll through my mind, why was I in Alex's bed? Why was I in my underwear? Did I talk to Kathy? I struggle for the remnants of last night and start from what I remember clearly as Olivia escorts me out of her girlfriend's apartment, downstairs and into a waiting cab.

Alright, let's start from the beginning…I left the station with Olivia and Alex; we went to The Lantern for drinks. We drank. The images come flashing at me, bits and pieces. Shots one, two and three I remember clearly…the rest is a fuzzy mess.

I remember staggering out of the bar being propped up by Olivia on my left and Alex on my right…and then…total blank.

I look over at Olivia who has her head buried in her cell phone, typing out a message. The cabbie doesn't look like he wants to talk so I let me head fall back against the seat. That prompts another image of me looking between the two women and…

Fuck, what did I say?

I start to shake my head in annoyance, but stop as the action makes my head swim in ways that are unnatural and way too reminiscent of taking a two by four to the side of the head.

Clenching my eyes shut, I feel the cab roll to a stop causing my stomach to pitch. I press my lips together and clutch my gut. This is not gonna end well.

"El!" Olivia shouts in my ear. "Let's go."

My eyes snap open, my head snaps up and I glare. The successive action causes another bout of nausea and blinding pain.

Bitch!

I scoot half out of the cab as she tugs on the sleeve of my jacket. Unthinking I toss a ten at the driver and we head into the station. She signs both of us in and I start for the elevator when her hand stops me. She points to the stairs and grins. My head drops and I follow her.

Church tomorrow and lots and lots of praying.

I trudge up the last few steps and down the hallway as Olivia has already rounded the corner into the bullpen. A few agonizing moments later and I manage to make it to my desk, pull open my top drawer and grab the bottle of Advil in my desk. A half empty bottle of water sits on my desk and I snatch it up, dump four pills into my mouth and chase it with the room temperature liquid.

"Yo!" Fin booms from my left.

I glare at him as he gives me a thorough once over. I slouch in my seat thinking it's better to ignore him and the smirk he's wearing and turn on my computer.

"Hey, Munch, check this out," Fin says, "Ya know, yesterday when we were joking around…"

"I do," his partner chimes in and I cringe.

"You wanna give us a run down and see what they say?" Fin asks as his body hovers on my periphery.

"It would be a miscarriage of justice if I didn't." Munch leans against my desk and his snapping fingers garner my attention. "You, Detective Stabler, are in the same clothes you were yesterday, as is your partner. You both left together and if I'm not mistaken came in together."

I find the nearest object to my right hand and toss the pen at him. He deflects it easily and picks up where he left off, "Now, since Olivia just went into Cragen's office, I think it's time you two come clean."

"Stuff it, John," I manage as the tapping of Fin's foot against the aged linoleum sends a needling pain through my right eye.

Whatever I drank last night, I will never, ever drink again.

I just need to figure out what it was.

My co-workers are about to start up again when our attention shifts to Cragen's door and Alex, my partner and the Captain shuffle out. Olivia offers me a tight smile as she takes her seat and opens up a file from yesterday.

"It break time?" our Captain asks causing John and Fin to go back to their desks to resume their days activities. "Alex," he says turning his attention back to our A.D.A. and the woman I'm currently the most scared of, "if you need anything else, call."

"Thanks, Don," the blonde says earnestly, "Really it means a lot."

I watch them exchange smiles and then he disappears back into his office as Alex turns heel and glares at me. "Elliot, a word!" she barks and I wince.

I look for sympathy from my partner and the only thing I see is a slight smile trying to hide behind the same file folder she's had in her hand for the past few minutes.

Might as well get this over with.

I wonder if Kathy would mind being married to eunuch?

Alex stomps down the hall to the main interview room and I follow behind, shutting the door as I step inside. She's already leaning against the table; her arms folded across her chest and her lips a thin line. "Sit down, detective."

The protest to being ordered around by her dies on my lips at her look.

Right, I'm just gonna cop a squat and deal.

She follows my movements, turning towards me as I sit down. Her hand slips inside the briefcase and pulls out a single rose bundled in baby's breath and green paper. A note is pinned to the top, but I can't make out what it says.

Uh…?

"I won't go over what you did last night. From the looks of it, there's little I could say that would make it worse," she clips as she sets the flower down in front of me. "However, you will give this to your partner with apologies for walking in on us in my bedroom, you will do what she asks the remainder of your work week and you will, above all else, keep your damn hands to yourself."

Alex leans into my personal space, looking me dead in the eye as she finishes, "If you, in an inappropriate fashion, lay your hands on my girlfriend again, I will personally hand your wife your manhood on a gold chain. Are we clear?"

I swallow and nod. Seeing my agreement, she rights herself and smoothes out her suit as she gathers her bag. I stand and grab the flower readying myself to follow her. As we begin to exit she spins to me and pokes a finger in my chest. "By the way, we told Don. The charade ends today." Instead of the glare I expect from her, she winks at me and breezes out of the room.

Okay…well, this should be…I'm not really sure what or how this going to go down, but I will make good on the demands my partner's girlfriend gave.

I hit the floor and Alex is leaning against Fin's desk talking about something as the two laugh. See and that's what's scary about Alex. You don't just threaten a guy's manhood and then go for laughs with coworkers.

She missed her calling in the military.

Pulling at the neck of my shirt, I place the flower on Liv's desk as she looks up to meet my apologetic gaze. "I'm not sure what happened last night, but, uh…" I mumble, "Uh, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She looks at me and picks up the rose, bringing it to her nose and inhales. A smile ghosts over her face and she winks at me. A weight that's been sitting on my shoulders since I woke lifts and I know we're okay. I nod and she swats my arm to send me in the direction of my seat.

I breathe in slowly, glad that that's over. A quick glance at Alex and she sends me a small tip of her chin, the only signal I'll get from her, but at least she isn't attacking me with her lover's service weapons either.

With Alex and Olivia sorted, I grab my phone and dial my wife. I need to know how much trouble I'm in with her. "Elliot?" Kathy answers the phone.

"Hi, you." I smile relieved that she doesn't sound angry.

"You know you owe your partner right?" she says not even bothering with the rest of the pleasantries.

"Yeah," I mumble.

"Good, I'll have dinner ready at six tonight." I can hear her smile and I'm a bit more at ease. The head's still killing me, but at least she's not pissed.

"You gonna tell me what she said last night?" I ask hoping to get more information from someone as neither Alex nor Olivia seem forthcoming with information.

"Nope," my wife answers, "We'll talk about it tonight when you get home. Love you and be safe."

"Love you too," I manage before the line goes dead.

Well then…

"Gentleman," Alex says as she looks around the bull pen to see it mostly empty, "I think it's time we laid some rumors to rest."

Oh boy…

I follow her every move as she strolls up to Olivia's desk, pulls my partner up as their hands link together and plants one of the hottest kisses I have ever seen on Liv's lips. I notice the pen go quiet and Fin hiss, "Damn!"

"I think I died and went to Heaven," Munch mumbles and I smirk, shake my head and try to figure out who's luckier, Liv, Alex or those of us that get to witness it.

Finally, they let go of each other. Olivia looks a little dazed while Alex's smile is wider than a Cheshire cats.

"She's with me. Hands off. No speculation or I will have you arrested," Alex states matter of factly and slings her bag over her shoulder and hits the bull pen doors. "Liv, I'll see you tonight, good day, detectives!" she tosses over her shoulder and disappears around the door.

A smile, dreamy in quality, spreads over Liv's face and I wink at her. Her cheeks tint pink and her hair falls over her face. She's happy.

That's the important part.

Well, that and I'm officially off the hook.


End file.
